Stranger Than Strange
by Alpas
Summary: Six year old Tony found himself under the care of Harry Potter - a strange, unique individual who has a thing for magic.
1. Mr Potter

**Disclaimer: Do I look like J.K. Rowling to own Harry Potter? No. I also don't own Avengers. I just like writing them.**

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At a precious age of four, Tony was left in the care of strangers.

His brown, curious eyes wandered over the people going in and out of the mansion, always watching, observing. There were maids in constant duty to keep the house neat and tidy. There were cooks never left the kitchen to serve food, to serve _him_ food. In Tony's eyes, these people around him were basically strangers. One will replace the other over time once their contract was done. Even his father, Tony rarely saw him entering the house and if he did Howard would go straight to his room missing the longing look of his son.

For Tony, all of them were strangers. He had no clue on what makes the inhabitant of the house a person. He knew their jobs and responsible but not their personality. Well, except for three. Tony remembered Cynthia, his previous caretaker, the only one who stuck in his mind. Tony can't recall her face perfectly but in his mind she was the prettiest and had the softest voice among the females he encountered. The same voice she used every time Tony left out the vegetables on his plate.

" _Potatoes and spinach are good for growing boys."_

After a year Cynthia was replaced by Susan. Unlike the former, Susan was quiet. She never ordered Tony around, to stay put when he was too excited, to bother someone else when he was bored or to eat his vegetables. As a matter of fact, it was the opposite. Tony used all the opportunies he got and commanded the quiet girl with atrocious and impossible demands, but all was met with a smile which Tony secretly loved.

Sometimes he did it to see when she would snap and reprimand him. But for a year, Susan stayed silent. It was the day when she left the mansion that Tony learned her inability to speak.

At the age of six, Howard gave him free reign to various metals and tools. The man said it was a good time for his son to put his genius mind to work and Tony was delighted. Finally, a chance to be like his father.

His little hands were tinkering over a piece of machinery, trying to create the idea in his mind a reality when Harry arrived. Looking up to the guest who was following his father, Tony eyed this Harry. He seemed to be in his early twenties, quite younger than his former caretakers, with a bird's nest for a hair.

"Tony, say hi to Mr. Potter. He'll see to it you're taken care of. Mr. Potter, this is my son, Tony, he can be a handful sometimes. I hope you're ready for his mischiefs." Howard introduced and Tony felt warm at the proud remark. His father always left a note whenever the man wanted to speak to him but never got the time, and when he did it was the occasional tired greetings. This was the first time he heard father speak of him in such way and to be frank, Tony didn't know how to react.

So he just smiled sheepishly in return.

"You don't have to call me Mr. Potter, that's too formal for my taste. Harry is fine." Harry said, offering his hand for a shake.

.

Halloween was just around the corner and the mansion bustling with activity and everyone was under stress and pressure as his mother barked orders here and there for the upcoming Halloween party. Something like this was new for the six year old but he refrained from commenting seeing his mother was currently a spitting angry dragon who wanted nothing but perfection, which the maids can't seem to handle well.

"Halloween is a good holiday to celebrate." Harry commented as he led Tony away from the chaos his mother was doing. In Tony's opinion, there was nothing good with Halloween, children get to dress up as a mythical figure and scare people to death, which was definitely not fun.

Or maybe Tony felt sour he never got the chance to enjoy the holiday.

"But that's the fun part Tony. You get to be magical."

Tony tilted his head to the side, his brown eyes searching Harry's emerald orbs as if the older male was kidding and said, "There's no magic in dressing up." For a moment, an emotion Tony couldn't name flashed in his caretaker's eyes but was gone after a second. It must have been amusement since he heard Harry chuckle softly.

Scowling, Tony huffed in reply, he knew Harry was again treating him like a child.

Just like everyone else.

.

Harry Potter wasn't like everyone.

The raven haired youth was a weird individual, Tony concluded, but the oddness wasn't a bad trait to have so Tony welcomed it with open arms.

Harry was different, more unique if someone would ask him.

Although Tony was born in a place where everyone considered his father a man of science, the general public took their time to remind him faeries were fiction and robots were the real deal, Harry took his time to indulge his charge with tales of dragons and wizards. It was like Harry saw them true and lived in alternate world of magic instead of science. Once or twice, Tony would hear Harry speak Latin. Tony would ask what it meant and latter would always give him the same annoying answer "magic", sometimes his hands would gesture around the room to emphasize his point.

In return, Tony threw his best unimpressed face to his caretaker and drawled, " _Please."_ The child genius was past his toddler years to be that gullible to believe in Merlin, or Santa, or whatever. But for Tony, this was a nice change no matter how much he denied it.

.

It was winter and the season couldn't care more if piles of snow gathered around burying Stark's expensive rose bushes. Everywhere you look, the clearing was all white except for the two individuals wearing dark winter clothing as they sat on a bench warming themselves with a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

Inhaling the sweet aroma of his drink, Tony took a long sip, never minding the foam that stayed on the sides of his lips. The child wasn't one for long periods of silence and stillness and he wanted to cut off the calm atmosphere between them, but he couldn't think of anything to start a conversion. It may have been quiet on the outside, but inside? Tony's frustration was creating a whirlpool of topics it was like a storm raging in his head.

Suddenly, Tony blurted out, having run out of ideas, "Harry is kind of a boring name, don't you think?"

Jolted out from his concentration, Harry disapproved rather indignantly, "Hey." Tony either had limited knowledge on social cues or he completely disregarded his protest for the child shrugged in reply. So Harry continued, "It's a good English name."

"Nu uh." Tony shook his head, "There are a lot of names you could think of so why Harry?"

Harry paused and started to laugh which made Tony spun his head around so fast it could have broken his neck. "I don't exactly have the power to name myself when I was born, hence, my parents did it for me on my behalf."

"Don't you have a nickname?"

Harry shrugged, "My classmates call me scarface."

There was a short moment of silence, which Harry was grateful for. He knew that Tony's mind was whirling for whatever reasons and it'll be a shamed if he put a stop on it. That was his big mistake though. Tony suddenly perked up, his stance screamed determination as his charge beamed at him with a big, cheshire grin.

"I'll come up with a nickname better than scarface."

.

Christmas was a day from now and the biggest problem Tony encountered during his six years of living was that he can't seem to come up with the perfect gift for Harry. Tony never really bothered giving others presents because he thought he was the child and he should be the one receiving all of it.

But deep inside, Tony felt bad. Sure, his dad was rarely around but Howard still had the responsibility of being a father and presented him with toys and anything Tony wanted, really.

During Harry's stay in the mansion, Tony gleaned the fact that Harry's relatives hated his whole existence with passion. While he may not understand why, Tony, proving that he really was a genius, concluded that only a few number people happily spent their money to give Harry anything.

As a result, Tony made it his job to find (or invent) the greatest, most awesome sciency gift in the whole world all for Harry.

He could ask his father for help, but that old man was too occupied in looking for the probably dead super soldier. His mother maybe? Nah, that banshee wouldn't have been helpful. Tony knew his mother would probably give him money and tell him to just buy something expensive so Harry would appreciate it more.

Harry wasn't like that. It wasn't money he was after and Tony wanted this Christmas gift to be special.

.

Tony intently watched Harry's face, the child's eyes lit up in anticipation as he waited for Harry to open his heavily wrapped present. He was currently dying in excitement which put a giddy smile on his youthful features.

"What is this?" Harry mused curiously, his emerald eyes gazed over the metallic device, turning it around for further inspection.

Tony let out an exaggerated sigh and recited the description he got from the book, "It's a bird from the order Strigiformes."

"It's an owl." Harry replied, more like said it to himself, as he smiled to admire his gift. It was small, as big as his fist and had eyes with the color of steel that seemed to track his actions.

Tony felt his pride swallowing him whole. He was over the moon upon seeing the praiseful look on his friend and begun to gush out words too fast for Harry to follow, "The eyes have lenses which can adjust to your distance. I build it with camera sensors to trace your movements. Once you throw it up in the air, it will automatically activate and fly to anywhere you want."

There was a nostalgic expression on Harry's face when Tony finished talking and the latter saw it. It somewhat dampened his joyful disposition but it was covered by surprise when Harry crouched to his level, his hand went for his jacket's pocket to retrieve something.

"This isn't much, but this is all I have." Harry said lowly, offering the packet of sweets to Tony. It read: _Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans_.

"Thank you Tony."

.

Brown eyes glistened with unshed tears and Tony glared at the blueprints posted on the wall of his lab. Harry was fetching him his lunch while Tony waited by his lab. He felt weak at the moment as words floated in his mind, repeating itself as he forced himself to ignore it.

 _Harry's contract will expire soon._

His mind had been telling him that for days, but now he acknowledge it tears flowed freely down his cheeks. Cynthia and Susan's absence left a gaping hole within him but Harry filled it with his unusual quirks and mannerism. Harry by his side made him genuinely happy. He doesn't want Harry to leave, to see him part with a forced smile on his porcelain face as he stand by the door waving. He doesn't want his father introducing him to another person.

" _I'm afraid they will all stay for one year and leave."_ His father said, " _This is for your safety Tony."_

Tony remembered his caretakers were being replaced annually and the child was getting tired of it. Sick of the situation he was in.

" _Stupid contract",_ Tony angrily thought, wiping his tears roughly from his cheeks, " _stupid father"._

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 **Hi! It's been so long? I've had the chance to write the next chapter for my other story and uni is taking up most of my time and my precious sleep. But this is fic… Well, it's different. One second I was typing my 10 pages assignment and now I find myself posting writing this instead. Wow. Good job Alpas.**

 **This is an experimental fic (I guess), I haven't got a single clue on where this story is heading. There are actually ideas somewhere lying deep in the pit of my mind, which I plan to recall and fit with this story. Haha! Suggest something? Let's see where it will go.**


	2. The Brat Stark

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Christmas flew by like a breeze and nothing special happened that day to commit to Tony's memory. Well, there's one. Aside from giving Harry the toy he worked hard on, Tony received a candy. He wasn't actually expecting something in return, really, since he concluded that his caretaker was having financial crisis if working for this family was anything to go by. But he should have known that his friend wouldn't accept whatsoever without paying it back. _'An eye for an_ eye', Harry said, an unnecessary quote – a bit inhumane if used in the wrong situation – yet it stuck a firm impression on the child genius. But then again, Tony _should_ have known Harry was a one-of-a-kind, Jack of all Trades and a master oddball of weirdness with a habit of spouting nonsense.

What Tony got was a packet of colorfully jelly beans. It looked mundane outside and harmless inside, but boy, he was awfully wrong. Harry had him learn the value of a person's character; what they present themselves with doesn't reflect their inner self. To say he was embarrassed was an understatement. Tony can clearly remember the taste of it and he hated how Harry took delight in his suffering. That lesson was obviously for him not to judge easily.

It was _horrible._ The candymaker must've replaced chocolate with corpse-flavored mixture added with toenails for an extra kick. Seriously, who made these things? Bertie? That person must've been insane! Oh… If he has the chance, he will sue whatever company owns this treat. It tasted terrible like death personified into an innocent jelly bean enough to cause a major tragedy on his poor taste buds. They would have stayed dead if Harry didn't take pity on his charge ( _'Well, he should'_ , _Tony thought to himself indignantly_ ) and picked a blue colored one, promised that this time it was blueberry not the flavor of a blue ink Tony assumed.

Tony woke up at the crack of dawn, even before the sunlight could reach his eyelids he was already sitting by his twin-sized bed sluggishly wiping any traces of sleep. It was hours earlier before Harry would come to his bedroom and wake him up for breakfast. At this hour, Tony doubt Harry was awake and performing his daily chores. Nevermind that, Tony was having none of it, he still haven't forgotten about that incident and while the six year old was happy to receive a Christmas gift from Harry, that did not stop him from swearing revenge on the raven-haired man. He doesn't care what his caretaker was doing right now because Tony was going to kill time and plan the perfect payback to set upon Harry.

Throwing the blankets away, Tony, in his pajamas, leaped out of his bed, his feet touching the cold floor.

.

"What is this?" Harry said, his face portraying curiosity ( _with a hint of pride_ , _Tony could see_ ) as he observed the kitchen floor. Tony can't tell why on earth Harry haven't started on lecturing him how it was improper for a child of an important – and let's not forget, rich – man to behave such way: pranking. As of now, Tony was seated on one of the stool facing the counter, and facing Harry who was trapped on the maze of glasses.

"Hah!" Tony huffed, his chubby hands counting the remaining jelly beans scattered on the pristine tabletop. "That's what you get for having me taste _these_! Bertie is crazy for making an earwax flavored candy!"

He saw Harry raise a single eyebrow before the said man was a laughing mess to where he was standing and tried to ask, "So you haven't tasted the dead skin one?"

Dear Lord, that must have been what he had eaten yesterday. The unfathomable sensation it left on his tongue brought shivers up to his spine. It made him want to go to the nearest bathroom and puke whatever food sitting in his tummy, but even before he could stand and leave Harry was cackling up again with that annoying laughter of his. "Quit over reacting Tony. There's no dead-skin flavored ones in there. Just the usual: blood, snot, tears."

That didn't exactly help the matters.

At all!

Tony stuck his tongue out. It was childish but he felt like doing it. "Let's see if you can cross without spilling water everywhere." Around the kitchen floor were glasses of water, half full and upside down. Tony specifically spaced each one of it far enough for his small feet to cross that Harry would have a hard time traversing without getting himself wet.

"Are you mad? It seems to me you polished the floor with oil so I would slip."

Tony nodded in agreement and cheerfully added, "And spill water everywhere." There was no really other choice but to gather Tony's mess and start cleaning them up. It would be a slow process for Harry but who cares? Tony certainly didn't as he cackled internally. He felt as if he was a super villain in his super evil lair with lightning raining down on earth for additional background as he witness Harry looking like a grumpy old man scolded by his mother.

One of Harry's hands reached for the back of his neck massaging it for relief. A low grumble escaped his lips and Tony smirked as he heard it.

"Where's my magic when I need it?"

.

Pressing his ears on the cold door, Tony listened at the sounds of water raining down to tiled floor of the bathroom. After Harry crossed the kitchen, sliding and tumbling at each step he took, he looked like a stray cat who had a misfortune to bathe in the sewer and Tony gleefully stared at Harry while his caretaker frowned, preparing his breakfast – blueberry pancakes, just like what he wanted. But his games were far from over. Christmas vacation of doing nothing even if his mother adamantly corrected him how this week was meant for _relaxing…_ brought Tony agony. The child would rather spend it on activities but his parents refused.

So Tony ended up bothering Harry instead.

Harry immediately went to the showers after he cleaned the mess his charge made and after telling Tony to behave himself while he was gone for a few minutes. Yeah, right. Like the word 'behave' coincides with a six-year old as Tony rolled his eyes. His hands reached for a clear tape he pocketed and pulled a long string of it, careful not to create any sounds that might get Harry's attention, and stuck it across the door. He made sure there was enough tape to catch Harry's foot or at least half of his leg before hiding.

.

It didn't take Tony that long to wait for Harry to exit the bathroom and fall onto his trap. He saw Harry trip and land on the floor he covered with tomato sauce.

"ANTHONY!"

The said person cackled. He feared that if he approached Harry, the man would attack him with hugs to spread more sauce, so he stayed hiding from under the couch his mother favored among others and laughed while gripping his stomach.

"Bloody hell child."

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"Anthony, what are you doing down there? You should know by now that the floor is anything but clean no matter how much the maids spent their time cleaning it." said Howard who knelt down just to frown at his son's hunched form beneath the sofa he was supposed to sit on. "Get away from there. Your mother wouldn't like it seeing you with colds especially when her friends invited the three of us to this… _show._ " That certainly sparked an interest to Tony, hearing the obvious distain at the show they were to attend. And the fact that he was included – Howard only allowed Tony to come along when it was important or when it could benefit his child's future but those conferences were usually what his father consider as fun.

So what show could possibly earn his father's ire but would let Tony join?

Despite what Tony found an intriguing situation, he pushed his thoughts aside and asked his father, "Can Harry come?" Howard, taken aback with Tony's question, opened his mouth to explain only to close it again as Tony appealed with a barrage of words.

"I know you have plenty of guards to protect and stalk us if we need anything, but I really want Harry to come dad. Just this time, please? I promise to behave and impress your friends and play nice with the other kids and obey your rules so I wouldn't end up in danger. So please?"

The stare Tony received weighted heavy as if his father was analyzing his sentence similar on how he would treat a mathematical equation. He gulped, not knowing how his father will react, and hastily added, "YousaidsoyourselfHarryismycaretaker!" Now, Tony can't be quite sure if Howard got what he said since the look he has been giving hasn't changed.

"And I remember saying you're somewhat a handful." Howard sighed (in amusement) and shook his head (in disbelief), "Is that really the reason why you wanted him to come?"

"Yeah!" Tony nodded, at this moment, he was already preparing for the dreaded 'no' and come up with extra excuses to bother his father with. If there was anything he'd learned from his mother it is that: the more he annoyed Howard, the more his father would relent.

But Howard surprised him by asking another question "Is this really what you want?" Tony's mouth dropped open, thrown off the balance at their reversed situation. Never before has his father asked what Tony wanted, it was always the younger Stark asking for this and that, for more of this and less of that. And with Howard wordlessly granting whatever his son's requests were.

With his eyebrows raised, Howard repeated his query, "Is this really what you want Anthony?"

Why was it important again for his old man to know what his motives? Tony thought, it wasn't like he's up to anything bad. The child just wanted for his friend come and join with him being tormented by the dullness of his father's show, what was wrong with that?

So Tony answered, "Yeah!" nodding more vigorously.

"Okay, alright Tony." Howard said, surrendering. "As long as you're true with your promise Harry can come."

"Yeah!

.

It wasn't a conference with other old businessmen like what Tony had in mind. They weren't in a stuffy well-polished room served with cinnamon rolls and coffee, or in a theater-esque area for his father's presentations. Instead, the place they were dropped by his chauffer filled the area with tents of bright colors, rides for children and stalls that served foods the duo have never seen before.

Music was being played when someone shriek, followed by silly laughter and a dozen little boys chasing a pig… in a tutu?

"Tony, we're in a carnival." Harry scratched the side of his head as if he was questioning himself or his charge or if what he said wasn't an inquiry at all.

Tony, who's equally confused with whatever is happening, replied, "I know. I really thought the show dad said would be one of his…"

"Machines? Another flying car of his? Plots for the future?"

Rolling his eyes, Tony grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him forward, moving on quite fast from the confusion, "You know what I mean, Harry. But we're already in a carnival, so let's play! I say go to that one!" The booth Tony pointed had tiny balloons of different colors pinned by the wall and large, teddy bears hanged to the ceiling.

A middle aged man patiently waited for the duo to approach before saying, "Ahh customers! Well if it isn't the littlest Stark, care for a game or two for the prize of this panther?" No prizes caught Tony's eyes but when the man grabbed a black toy cat from under the table, he thought that perhaps this was what he could play with. It wasn't cuddly like the other toys and nowhere near fluffy like those teddy bears. In fact, the toy was made of blocks.

 _A puzzle!_

"What should I do to get that?" Tony asked eying the toy and then at the balloons and then back at the toy.

Harry had his eyebrows raised at his charge's questions, but kept his mouth shut as the worker brought out eight darts. "Pop eight balloons and you can get whatever you like. Five for the smaller toys and three for candies."

The steel was sharp and glinted when Tony turned it on an angle. That was good he supposed because if it's dull then he has less chance of winning the toy he wanted. "That should be easy." The small boy said arrogantly for he had his brain to think of the simple way to win, his father said so himself _'You just have to come up with a rather good strategy'_. Placing the required amount of money to play at the counter, Tony immediately grabbed one dart and thought how much force he needed to pop one balloon at a distance of X.

He even started imagining dots for the trajectory, with his one eye closed.

.

"I don't get it Harry! I've used forty seven darts already, one of them should be able to pop a balloon! Even just a single one!" Tony ranted as he held his forty-eighth dart in his trembling hand – trembling, because in rage not because he's already crying in frustration. Big boys don't cry, he thought.

Beside them, a blonde little girl in pigtails played and let her dart fly. It hit her fifth balloon in the process to which the man manning the booth whistled, "Well, little miss here has more luck that this fellow." He laughed good heartedly at Tony's pouting red face (and his _"Don't you dare give her my panther)_ and gave the girl what she wanted, a gray stuffed whale.

"Maybe I'm just more talented than him."

Tony spluttered, and if possible it looked like his blush got further intense, glared at the girl's retreating back. "Do you even know who I am brat!"

She paused and stuck her tongue at Tony, "You're the brat, midget!" and left.

Harry smiled at the childish exchange and asked, "Tony. Are you sure you want to waste your money on this? There are more games for you to try on like that one." It was a tall structure with a bell on top and Harry had seen people try to hit the circular machine-like thing he had no idea what it was called.

"Harry." His charge started, still holding onto his last dart, and rolled his eyes heavenward, "That's a strength test. You'll damage your confidence."

.

"The games are a challenge young man and it is for you to have fun." They had their chance on many other games with Harry helping whenever Tony losses his cool as the former pity his charge each and every time they left empty-handed.

"But how am I supposed to have fun when I'm not winning?" He grunted while uncovering the last candy, they ( _actually it was Harry_ ) won at the ring toss.

It's hard to explain something so simple to someone so intelligent, Harry concluded that apart from Tony's mental power his age caused him to be more stubborn – or maybe it was just a trait he got from one of his parents? – that he's unwilling to change his outlook unless elaborated in diagrams, charts, equations.

.

The pair stood at the overly bright entrance the show the Starks is invited to come and they couldn't help to hide a grimace at the sight of clowns parading beside them – smiling, laughing and clapping – all together happy like the sunshines they are. Their enthusiasm clearly isn't shared with Tony partly because he is a man of science and he decided from here on that he dislike clowns simply due to the animated way they act. And apparently, it also isn't shared with Harry based on how the corner of his lips dip into a frown and minutely rolling his emerald eyes whenever they wave at him.

How on earth can his father agree to come at a magic show when the two knew full well that magic is just a gimmick, a carefully planned situation that involves mirrors, smokes, strings and other devices? Point is, it is fabricated to entertain people. No, Tony believed that the better question is "Why we here?"

"The question is still stuck on your mind Tony? I thought we already solved the problem." Guests are being ushered inside the expansive, multicolored canopy shelter where the supposed magic happens and the two followed the crowd. They didn't have to wait for Tony's parents as the couple is inside ahead of time to avoid mundane discussions with reporters and fans.

Tony wanted to see clearly the magician's performance, hence, why Harry is profusely apologizing to anyone the boy pushed just to be in the front row. Really, he doesn't have to do that because they already have seats reserved for them.

.

"How did Henley escaped the tank!" Tony asked wildly at no one in particular. He's too engrossed at the trick (he still refuses to say magic) the infamous escape artist did.

Beside him, Harry muttered to himself, "She apparated maybe?"

.

"I don't buy any of this mentalism act. There's no logic behind. No explanation. No science." Tony pouted, his cheeks always got fatter when he does that. "I bet that baldie is bluffing and doesn't know what he's doing."

Beside him, Harry had his chin resting onto the knuckles of his hand in deep thought as he muttered words Tony couldn't understand. His caretaker is being weird again. "The Imperious Curse? Impossible. He's a muggle… or disguising to be one?"

.

"There's a cheat behind that I'm sure of it." Tony grumbled unhappily, rather tired from commenting at every performance they got. Thankfully, this is the last as it is getting late.

People watched the woman, who excitedly volunteered for the charming magician, nodded and answered every question Daniel asked – about the usual _'is this your card?'_ trick but to everyone's surprise…

…she smiled, shook her pretty blonde hair and said, "No, I'm afraid it isn't."

"Oh? No?" He started shuffling his cards again in fast rhythm as if it was to distract himself from his failed magic, but Harry can visibly the charming personality fading gradually to show a hint _over_ confidence enough to convince the wizard that this is just what the man wanted. "Well. What did I tell you from the very beginning? That the closer you think you are –"

"– the less you actually see." Tony and Harry intoned amongst others from the crowd while the magician threw all of his cards in air. It flew, in large impossibly large amounts as though his standard 52 cards deck is multiplied into thousands.

Every single one of them landed on the maroon colored floor, facing up.

"Is this your card?"

Suddenly, there were cheers all over the place, people standing up, and cameras flashing at the crudely made collage of the card the woman had: ace of hearts.

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 **Have you seen NYSM2?! Finding Dory?! Central Intelligence?! Tell me 'it's hella awesome, you're gonna watch it again' or don't talk to me at all.**

 **No, haha just kidding I love reviews.** **As I've said from the previous chapter, I don't really intend for this to be a serious fic and updates come only when inspired or when someone suggested an interesting event because honestly… I don't really have a concrete idea where this story is going.**

 **But! Since it took me so long to update... Here. Enjoy my drabble gift.**

The second the Starks' family limousine arrived at the front, Howard immediately raced inside separating his being from his wife, his child and Harry to their own as he took three ( _even four_ ) steps up the stairs muttering towards his lab.

His left hand held tissues, full of numbers and illegible writing while his other hand held a pen ( _it has a unicorn on top_ ) he borrowed from Anthony.

He had a new breakthrough apparently and his need to write all of the information he'd seen and gathered at the magic show is eating him alive. Every single detail must be recorded. Any glaring mistakes must be written and corrected. Howard couldn't afford to lose any data and his brain, no matter how brilliant it is, isn't helping at all with it piling science after science…leaving what he wanted to remember buried.

A leather bounded notebook, innocently seating on his table was snatched from a giddy scientist as he started to scribble away his breakthrough.

He faintly heard the head butler calling him for dinner.

But food can wait. So will sleep.

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[The Next Day]

"Where are my notes!" Howard screamed in panic, his trembling hands flipping the pages of his notebook in mad search for his breakthrough. However, to Stark's surprise it was gone – EVERYTHING WAS GONE – the moment his eyes fluttered open at the mornings rays of sun.

His notebook is blank.

His research paper is clean.

The charts, the model he drew…vanished!

"Who! Was in my lab?!"

"It can't be gone… it can't be gone."

"What did I do wrong?"

"Am I forgetting something?"

"Did _I lose it_!"

.

Harry heard all of Howard Stark's furious rambling, even the sounds of paper rustling as the elder man vigorously hunt his elusive from the mess he created.

And the wizard has inkling on what the problem is as he approached his charge's spacious bedroom.

"Tony, you sadist. I'm sure you're absolutely pleased tricking your father with invisible ink."


End file.
